'I'm sorry, but I couldn't move. The old beldame heard something as it was.'
'What in God's name was she doing in the garden in the dark?'
'She was with the steward. They wanted to talk alone, I think. I only caught a snatch of what they said. Something to do with the two girls being frightened.'
We waited for a while. An owl swooped down from a tree in the orchard, a white ghostly shape, and some small creature in the long grass screamed as it was carried off. At length I climbed the wall again. The lights were out, the garden silent, the well a dim shape in the moonlight.
'There's no sign of the dogs,' I said.
Barak hauled himself up beside me. 'That's strange. Surely if you'd had people trying to break in you'd loose the dogs at night?'
'I agree, but it seems they haven't.'
Barak sat astride the wall and pulled a couple of greasy pieces of meat wrapped in paper from his satchel. He threw them on the lawn, then tossed a stone he had found somewhere at the tree. It bounced off with a clack.
'The Moor said if a dog ate that it'd be asleep in minutes,' he whispered.
'You got that from Guy?'
'Ay. I told him the story yesterday while you were asleep. I thought he'd know of something.' He grinned. 'I found I got on well with the Moor on better acquaintance.'
I looked out over the silent lawn. 'Still no dogs.'
He scratched his chin. 'What say we risk it?'
I looked at the blank windows of the house. 'So long as we keep an eye out.'
He looked at me. 'You all right?'
'Yes, yes!'
'Right then, down we go.'
Barak leapt easily onto the lawn and I followed, wincing at the jarring my spine took as I landed. I watched the house as Barak fetched his hunks of meat and replaced them in his knapsack.
'Best not to leave these, or they'll know someone's been here.'
He removed the padlocks from the well, then I helped him off with the lid. The smell was fainter now, but the sight of that black opening still made my stomach clench. Barak unfurled his rope ladder and climbed quickly down. I kept glancing over at the house. For a moment I thought I saw a movement, a deeper blackness, at one of the upper windows, but when I looked again I saw nothing.
This time Barak managed to light his candle the first time. I turned from the house as a faint white glow lit the well and leaned carefully over the side. It was shallower than I had expected, no more than twenty feet. It was weird to see Barak standing at the bottom of that long circular hollow. He was crouching, looking at a huddle of dark shapes. He explored them with his hands. This time he was quite silent. I could not see his face.
'What is it?' I whispered.
He looked up at me, shadows from the candle making eerie shapes on his face. 'Animals. There's a cat here, a couple of dogs.' He bent down again. 'Shit, there's horrible things been done to them – the cat's had its eyes put out. This is where that neighbour's retriever went – Jesu, it's been hanged.' He half-turned and examined a larger shape. This time he did cry out, an abrupt shout that echoed off the bricks.
'What? What is it?'
'I'm coming up,' he said abruptly. 'For God's sake, keep watch on the house.'
He snuffed out the candle and clambered up again. I peered at the house, my heart beating so fast it made my vision judder. All remained dark and silent. Barak clambered over the top of the well. His eyes were wide.
'Help me get the well cap back on,' he breathed. 'We have to get out of here.'
We slid the cap back and Barak replaced the locks. With a last look at the silent house we ran back to the wall and clambered over. Back in the orchard, Barak leaned against a tree. He stared at me, then gulped.
'Someone in that house has been torturing animals. But not just animals. There's a little boy down there, a ragged boy of about seven. He's been – ' he broke off '-you don't want to know, but he's dead and he didn't die quick.'
'The mad girl's brother,' I breathed. 'The girl that was put in Elizabeth's cell.'
'Perhaps. Whoever took him probably thought a beggar boy wouldn't be missed, didn't matter.' He blew out his cheeks. 'It scared me, I'll admit. I thought, if whoever did that came I would be helpless down there. I had to get out.' His voice trembled.
'I don't blame you.'
He stared at me aghast as a thought struck him. 'Could it have been Elizabeth Wentworth who killed the boy? Was that why she lost the will to live after the girl was put in with her' If that's the girl's brother down there-'
I thought a moment. 'No. Joseph said Elizabeth had a cat she was devoted to. Needler said it ran away, but I think it's her cat down there. No, it wasn't her. I think young Ralph did this. First the animals, then the child.'
'But then- Don't you see? This gives Elizabeth a motive to put the boy down the well! You could say it was apt justice for the wretch. Perhaps she found out what he was doing-'
'But why, when Needler pulled Ralph from the well, did he say nothing about the animals or the dead child?' I shook my head. 'He must have seen what was down there. I have to see Elizabeth again – I have to get her to talk.'
'If she's still alive.'
'I'll go first thing tomorrow. Thank you for what you did,' I added awkwardly.
Barak gave me a sombre look. 'You think me hard, but I'd never hurt a defenceless creature.'
'I believe you,' I said. 'Come, let's get back to Chancery Lane.'
He nodded. 'All right. Jesu, I'll be having nightmares tonight.'
Chapter Thirty-nine
NEITHER BARAK NOR I slept well that night. There had been a message from Guy when we returned, saying Elizabeth was a little better, her fever lower. He also asked me to call on him to discuss 'the other matter'. Barak had ridden out again to Joseph's lodging house, with a message for him to meet us at the gaol at nine.
As I dressed on that seventh of June I thought how much I had to do that day; visit Elizabeth, see Guy, then answer Cromwell's summons. My heart sank at the thought of that last. There were only three days left. But by now, hopefully, Cromwell would have questioned Marchamount. If Lady Honor knew nothing, and Rich and Bealknap were out of the picture, that left only him. I hoped he would lead the way to the Gristwoods' killers; but what if, under pressure, he gave Cromwell the Greek Fire formula? Well, I thought as I dressed, if he did, that was out of my hands.
Barak wanted to come with me to Newgate. He could not find his riding shoes and asked me to wait for him. I stood outside the house. The morning was hot again but a wind had risen, a hot breeze that sent little white clouds racing across the sky. Simon appeared, leading the horses.
'Out again early, sir?' he asked.
'Ay. To Newgate gaol.'
The boy squinted at me from under his blond mop, his narrow face full of interest. 'Has Master Barak been fighting robbers, sir? Is that how he lost his hair?'
I laughed. 'No, Simon. Do not be so nosy.' I looked at the sturdy little shoes he wore. 'Are you used to these now?'
'Yes, thank you, sir. I can run faster, which is well with all the messages I have run lately.' He smiled at me hopefully.
'I suppose it is. Here's sixpence then, towards new shoes when those wear out.'
I smiled as the boy ran back into the house. It struck me I knew nothing of the poor lad's background, only that he had come to the door and Joan, liking his looks, had given him a job. Another of London's innumerable orphans, no doubt.
Barak appeared and we set off. As we rode down Fleet Street I told Barak my burn was giving me pain and I intended to consult Guy after we had seen Cromwell. I was worried he might want to come too, but he only nodded.
